


Frustratingly Tender Moments

by Parker_of_Loxley



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Lena is going to get them together, Multi, Mutual Pining, Pining, Please just get together you fools, Reinhardt and Winston agree, and scatters her soul across all of space and time, because that's what heroes do, idiots to lovers, if it kills her, the pining has gone on for long enough
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:00:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25275091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Parker_of_Loxley/pseuds/Parker_of_Loxley
Summary: Genji and Angela have been pining together ever since their paths crossed in Overwatch's golden age.  Now that their paths have once again merged, they've begun their disgusting pattern of overly respectful flirting that has no place outside of a rom-com.Tracer says "no more."  Something's gotta change.  Everyone else agrees.
Relationships: Genji Shimada & Echo, Genji Shimada/Angela "Mercy" Ziegler, Lena "Tracer" Oxton & Angela "Mercy" Ziegler, Lena "Tracer" Oxton & Genji Shimada, Lena "Tracer" Oxton & Winston
Comments: 12
Kudos: 41





	Frustratingly Tender Moments

Being a cyborg ninja had its ups and downs. 

Granted, it had its perks. Genji appreciated his ability to leap and bound across rooftops, to move with the silence of an owl in the winter air, to return artillery fire with a blade barely longer than his own forearm. But these were things he absolutely had to master. There were countless hours of stumbling over legs that he couldn’t really feel with. He had to learn to hold a sword with a hand that, for the longest time, he didn’t really consider his. It had all felt indomitably foreign. 

But his dissonance with his new body had long passed. His journey for peace had ended. Currently, he was on one of reclamation. Overwatch had just made its return repelling Null Sector’s Parisian attack, and had proceeded to make their getaway, what with technically being extreme levels of illegal. That was something to think about. When that officer asked if their response meant Overwatch was back, she sounded hopeful. Genji could share the sentiment. This world was hurting, and it needed help. 

Speaking of help, he needed to talk to Angela. His armor gave him plenty of protection, but his left arm was still mostly organic, and thus not as resilient. That was one thing he had never quite gotten the hang of: reconciliation with the two halves of his whole. Sometimes his prosthetics performed so well that he forgot how vulnerable the rest of him was. His arm was very much feeling that artillery fire he’d deflected. He had no regrets, but as Athena would say trying to get him to eat, a healthy body is a healthy mind. He never did like how she always watched him eat. 

Looking up, he examined his teammates, packed inside what was essentially a high-tech moving van. Reinhardt and Winston didn’t even try to sit down, they just stood in the middle. Brigitte and Lena were up front, the latter of whom was precisely right, the former  _ had _ grown. It seemed like just yesterday that he was seeing pictures of Torbjorn’s kids around his workshop, hearing about them around Christmas time and whenever he had a moment to spare. Sometimes it was hard to keep track of which kid he was talking about; he just had  _ so many _ . Mei was sitting opposite him, shrunk into herself, holding that drone of hers in the protective airfield of her lap. He didn’t know very much about the climatologist; so far, only that she had been an established member of the Overwatch ecological division, which, if memory serves, struggled to get relevant funding and a voice at the table. Echo, meanwhile, was in the front corner; her streamlined chassis was hovering near the ceiling. It reminded him of his Blackwatch days, and he made a note to ask her if she had gotten any word from McCree recently. 

And finally, Angela (while there was a time when he would have habitually called her “Dr. Ziegler,” their friendship had long ago developed a first-name basis) was sitting next to him, back straight, gaze forward. She could go from a boots-on-the-ground, no-nonsense field medic to a deliberately positioned health care professional at the flip of a switch, and he envied her for it. His regimen of discipline and focus meant it was necessary for him to be ready at all times, providing a consistent and rather predictable demeanor to reach the eyes of those around him. 

“You’re favoring your arm,” she spoke. He was not surprised. She had most definitely noticed his grand entrance in aiding Winston’s ridiculously heroic staredown with the giant Omnic, even before she had made hers. Which, by the way, had been insanely over the top. Though to be fair, one only had so many chances to reintroduce the world to a heroic peacekeeping organization. 

“Winston wasn’t going to dodge, so I made the artillery dodge for him.” 

Winston himself chuckled. “That’s one way to put it. I was certainly reminded today of the physics behind those enhancements of yours.” 

It was Reinhardt’s turn. “You should have seen him when we found one another in London. One moment, there was an anti-Omnic mob. The next, the mob was unconscious. They had no idea he was even there!” 

The truck’s passengers continued to recount stories of their time away from a public Overwatch. A welcome familiarity. While he had not been particularly social in his time with Overwatch, having a group of people care--a family--had been something he took for granted. No longer. 

He gave the slightest lean towards Angela. “I would appreciate a physical examination once we are back at the, er, clubhouse,” he murmured, clumsily navigating around the name for their makeshift base. It sounded odd, if not cliche. 

She gave the slightest of smiles in response, a thing he noticed that she did when she wanted to be coy. It was warm, and wonderfully mischievous, even if he yearned for it to be a grin with a laugh he could die for. 

“I think I can pencil you in for an appointment this afternoon.” 

Under his chromed mask, he couldn’t help but smile. To Genji’s delight, Angela’s own smile widened, probably in response to the subtle body language she learned to read. This wasn’t surprising at all; while she didn’t actually develop his prosthetics, she was deeply involved in their integration and in his acclimation to them. She knew the meaning behind every little shift, every sway, every relaxed shoulder and closed fist. She didn’t just know this language, she practically helped write it, and he couldn’t imagine giving his voice to anyone else. 

In the cab of the truck, Lena and Brigitte traded stories about their prospective groups, as they were rather isolated from the discussion behind them. After a solid half-hour though, Lena couldn’t keep back a question anymore, determined to get an answer (and hopefully one she wanted). 

“Brigitte, I’m going to have to ask you a question, and you’re going to need to give me a straight answer.”

The squire-mechanic glanced over at Lena, not daring to look her in the eyes. This was unrelated to the fact that she was driving. 

“Yes, Lena?”

“Have Genji and Dr. Ziegler gotten together yet?” 

Brigitte wasn’t expecting that. Partially because she didn’t much pry, and partially because, to her knowledge, the aforementioned couple had not, in fact, gotten together yet. Even if they did, in fact, sometimes linger in one another’s company much more than other team members, but she figured that was just friendship. 

“I don’t think so--”

“Oh Omnic’s bollocks!” Yeah, Brigitte didn’t know what to say to that, so Lena continued. “Look, I’ll fill you in: back in the Overwatch days, Genji was Dr. Ziegler’s patient, and whenever he wasn’t being an angsty arse, they must have found the time to fall madly in love. I mean, when we sparred, they would  _ wave _ to each other, mid-match! I must have won eleventy times because of it. Anyway, they would dance around each other in obscenely adorable ways until we disbanded, and the fact that the two bell-ends still aren’t together is a load of…” She sighed. She probably ought to stop cursing in front of someone she had seen grow up. “It’s frustrating. Because now I’m going to have to watch them pine like idiots again,” she pointed at the driver, “and you are too!” 

Lena Oxton had no idea how right she was. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all! So, I haven't written fanfiction for anything but my own original content for a few years now, but I thought I might as well get back into it. I have been writing a collab (l a m p), but it's been awhile since I did this on my own. 
> 
> I do hope y'all enjoy.


End file.
